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Don't Stop Reading

12

Brian stood outside his daughter Neri's bedroom door, listening to the sounds coming from within. He had heard a man sneaking into their house, giggles as his daughter opened her window and let him in, more giggles as her visitor raised her night dress, ran his hands over her body...Brian's hand clasped around his hard on. His daughter had blossomed in the years since her mother had died, and this wasn't the first time he had stood at her door and listened, imagining what might be happening on the other side.

She moaned, and he heard as the man fucking her shushed her.

"Your father will hear."

Her moans became muffled; his hand must be over her mouth. Brian's cock twitched in his own hand and he dragged his palm against his foreskin, his breathing becoming heavy.

Was he sick?

He pushed the thought aside. It was nothing, he was just listening to two people fucking, it didn't matter if she was his daughter, it wasn't like he was the one fucking her.

But did he want to?

Brian grunted quietly in frustration at the little voice in his head that wouldn't be silenced. All summer he had endured living in this big, empty house with a young beauty, watching her blossom as she became an adult, seeing her nipples peek through her skimpy night gowns, hearing her sighs during her afternoon naps, knowing what she was really doing in there. It was driving him insane, and it was made worse by the fact that she never bothered to hide her body from him.

Her bathers were tiny and she wore them constantly, sometimes bending over in front of him to take something from the kitchen cupboard - the lips of her pussy outlined against the white fabric of her wet bikini, sometimes one or two of the hairs that she kept trimmed but not shaved taunting him. He wondered what she would do if he reached out one day and tucked one of these stray hairs back inside her panties, skimming the pink skin of her most private place that she teased him with every day.

Of course he wanted to.

Night after night he had gone to sleep with his cock hard in his hand, refusing to stroke it, until the night of her eighteenth birthday party. The party was over, the guests gone home, and he had finished cleaning up some of the mess, and was walking past her bedroom on his way to his own. He had heard a noise. An intruder? Carefully he had edged her bedroom door open, ready to jump whoever had broken into his little girl's room. But the intruder was obviously welcome - his little girl's tits were swinging above the bed as a young man shoved into her from behind.

Brian had been shocked, frozen to the spot, and they had not seen him peeping through the door.

His hand had found its way to his cock, and stroked it, and he had worked himself into a frenzy as he watched this young man fuck his little girl, faster and harder until the young man had cum, and she had pretended to.

He had known her all her life; he knew that her orgasms with this man were all fake.

Back in the present, Brian's breath quickened with his daughter's moans of pleasure. The orgasms were fake but the pleasure was real, and he knew she would be walking around him in the morning in a state of unsatisfied arousal. The thought of her pussy, wet, engorged, the knowledge that she would find an excuse for an afternoon nap and would rub herself to release, pushed Brian over the edge. He came just as her boyfriend did, the sounds of her muffled cries in his ears.

He quietly padded back to his room to sleep, to dream.

Neri heard the floor outside creak and she felt a wave of desire rush over her as her boyfriend extricated himself from her, kissed her on the ass, then threw himself onto the bed and promptly fell asleep.

Neri knew her father listened to them. What she didn't know was how she felt about it. It turned her on and frightened her at the same time. Sometimes she would almost cum, knowing that he was at her door, working his cock while her boyfriend worked her. She checked that he was asleep, then crooked a leg up, breathing into her pillow as she masturbated, keeping still, keeping quiet, imagining Brian's hand on her clit instead of her own. She came with a gush from her pussy and a sigh from her mouth, and drifted off to sleep, to dream.

It continued this way for months. Night after night with her boyfriend inside her, and her father listening outside the door, thinking she didn't know he was there. Probably thinking his presence would be unwelcome. Neri began to associate his presence with sex, with untamed desire, with an ongoing arousal that was never quite satisfied. The sex became dull, her boyfriend began to sense her disinterest in him, and her moans began to sound fake even to her own ears.

By day, she would walk around the house, conscious of the hardness of her nipples, the glances that her father tried to hide, the outline of his cock that was always semi-erect. She began to spend less time wondering about the morality of wanting to fuck her own father, and more time thinking about how it might happen.

She broke it off with her boyfriend. The sex was boring, he barely flicked his tongue in the direction of her clit before clambering on top of her and puffing and panting until he came. Neri knew from what her girlfriends told her that most guys their age were like this. But some of her friends had fucked older men and the stories were different, enticing...

Her father was older...

***

It was nine in the morning on a Saturday. Brian had left the house to shop for groceries and Neri was in the pool. She knew he would be back soon, and she thought about one of her many fantasies. They would be swimming naked and she would wrap her legs around him, pull his cock into her, rock against him. She stole a finger under the elastic of her bikini bottom and stroked a little circle around her clit. Just then, the front gate clicked open. Brian was home.

Neri jerked her hand from between her legs and was about to call out an innocent hello, when the familiar disappointed, frustrated feeling of hiding her desire, denying the taboo of incest, washed over her. Neri made a sudden decision. She would throw aside all pretence of being a normal daughter, and try to seduce her father.

Quickly, she untied her bikini top and tossed it aside, her breasts bouncing in the water. She pulled off the bottoms and sent them flying, then positioned herself against one of the jets of water that sent filtered pool water into the pool.

She let it run between the cheeks of her ass, over her pussy, leant back on the side of the pool, exposed her breasts to the sky, and moaned. Neri's body moved with the rhythm of the water, little waves dashing against the poolside, and that was how Brian found her.

He almost dropped the shopping in his surprise. His cock - ever ready these days - instantly pushed itself against the fabric of his shorts. He fell to his knees behind a garden hedge and fixed his gaze on his little girl as she writhed, moaned, pulled on her nipples and bounced in the water. Her tits were little mountains in front of him, nipples standing high and hard, and one of her hands pulled on a teat while the other danced below the water line, circling her clit no doubt. Her mother had liked that too.

Brian came almost the moment his hand reached his cock. He moaned, quietly, his eyes on his daughter's tits as the stream of cum shot high from his cock and landed with a tiny splat on the bricks, just behind her head.

Neri heard him cum, heard the splash of his semen hit the ground behind her, and wondered what it would taste like if it had traveled just a little further and landed in her open mouth. With an "oh!" of shock, of desire, she convulsed in the water, her finger driving itself into her pussy and feeling the muscles contract around it. She took a few deep breaths, felt her taut muscles relax, drew her hand from between her legs, shaking with the force of the orgasm. She heard Brian sneaking back through the front gate, and quickly she dressed. A few moments later the gate clicked again and Brian called out to her.

"I'm home little lady. Want some lunch?"

***

The rest of the day was a blur for Brian. He was at breaking point, the guilt of his desire to fuck his little girl driving him as crazy as the desire itself. He tried to remind himself of the fact she was his daughter and that this was wrong.

He thought about when she was ten, how he had taken her to the fair and they had ridden the merry go round together, her little legs barely able to mount the horse. But in his mind she transformed into her eighteen year old self, and instead of an innocent little child on a merry go round, she was an adult, legs astride a horse, hips rocking with the motion of the ride.

He thought of buying her ice cream in the park when she was fourteen, but this memory too became perverted as the Neri-of-now invaded his mind, licking ice cream and then licking his cock. She was his daughter, yes, but she was also a beautiful woman, and she was driving him wild.

He spent the afternoon in a daze, reading in his library, or pretending to. Ignoring the ignoble tent in his trousers, denying his cock any release. He stayed there until dinner time, then returned to the kitchen to eat with Neri, almost crying with shame by this point. Furtive listening at her door and a blurred memory of a momentary glimpse of her months ago was nearly manageable, he could have seen out the summer like that. But seeing her in the pool today, the daylight hiding nothing from his gaze, her tits bouncing in the water, her moans ringing in his ears... it had broken him, and he wasn't sure he could get through another day of this torture.

After dinner she leaned across the table and took his hand.

"Daddy, are you ok? You look worried..." Neri sounded concerned and he shook his head, mustering a wan smile.

"I'm fine honey, just a little tired."

"Let me help you relax" Neri said, moving towards him. Brian tensed, but she moved behind his chair, placed her hands on his shoulders, and began to massage.

Her hands were magic, and Brian finally began to relax. She kneaded his muscles, her hands roving up his neck, over his head, pulling gently on his hair. He moaned.

"Honey, that's wonderful."

The massage continued, her nails skimming over his clothes, and down his chest. He could feel the warmth of a breast against the back of his neck, and could hear her breath in his ear as her hands wove down. Her nails dragged over his nipples, hard under the thick toweling of the bathrobe he was wearing, and he barely suppressed a sigh. Her own nipple was circling against his neck, only a thin layer of fabric between them, as her hands ran over his stomach, kneading the muscles there, before returning to the relative safety of his chest and circling his pecs.

She drew her nails down his arms, all the way to the hands that were clasped in his lap, hiding the hardness of his cock from her. Her pinky brushed the fabric that held taut over the head of his erection and he held his breath - had she noticed? She didn't hesitate, just kept moving her hands, so he relaxed a little - his secret was safe for now.

Finally the torture, the pleasure, came to an end.

"Daddy? I was thinking, could you read me one of those old bedtime stories? Like when I was a little girl?"

He spoke without thinking "You're still my little girl."

She giggled. "Maybe. Will you?"

He feigned disinterest with an amused sigh.

"Fine honey. You choose the story."

They retired to the library and he sat on the couch, his writing desk in front of them. He loved this room, the masculine decor, the leather, the antiques. She put on some music and as she walked over to join him, carrying the book, he tried not to imagine stretching her out on his desk, fucking her slowly, rhythmically... He shook the thought from his mind and reached out for the book she gave him.

It was a fairy tale from her childhood, one that a family friend had written for her and had published in a proper hardback volume. Innocently, she sat on his lap, and the old habit from when she had been a child returned - he circled his arm around her waist and she settled against him, each of them holding one half of the book. His cock was trapped between them, rock hard now. He glanced up at her in fear but she showed no sign of being aware of it. Brian began the tale.

"Once upon a time..."

Brian's low, soothing voice washed over Neri and she leaned back, relaxing against his hard chest. She could feel his cock nestled between their bodies, its hard length resting in between the cheeks of her ass. She wore no panties and she knew he would be naked under his bathrobe. He was so hard, so tantalizingly close. Her poor, tormented daddy. She had felt his hard-on earlier and she knew he wanted her the way she wanted him. Would this seduction work?

"The little mouse said to the fish...honey, please stop wriggling."

Neri laughed. "The mouse said what?"

Brian laughed with her. "I meant you. You're wriggling."

Every time she moved, her night dress rode a little higher and his cock became a little harder. It was throbbing now. He was beginning to wonder whether she was doing this on purpose...but there was no way she was as perverted as him. The vision of her tits swinging above the bed on that first night came back to him and he reminded himself that she may not be perverted, but she was certainly no innocent.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable daddy. Keep reading."

Brian turned his concentration back to the book. Neri wiggled some more, her left tit brushing against his hand as she moved. He turned his thoughts away from her. "The little mouse..."

As he read, she wriggled, and writhed, and gradually pulled the fabric of his bathrobe aside, until his cock was bare against the satin of her night gown. Her father's voice faltered.

"Honey..."

"Shh daddy. Keep reading." Almost a whisper, definitely an order.

His mind was foggy from the scotch she had given him before dinner, more than he usually drank. The music lulled him into a sense of unreality, the fairy tale almost making him think it was fifteen years ago and she was still his little girl and nothing unusual was going on. He did as he was told and went back to the story, trying to ignore the feel of the satin that now rubbed against his aching cock. He knew he should find a way out of this situation that would save their relationship, but she was still moving, sighing.

"Keep reading, daddy."

His tongue wrapped around the words on the pages of the story. Something about a frog and a crocodile and a mouse. The scotch swam in his brain and mingled with the scent of her shampoo, the rise and fall of her chest, the tickle of her nipple against his wrist, the heat of her sex. He kept reading, kept his focus on the story as though it was the only thing that could save him now.

Neri pulled the hem of her nightdress higher, and suddenly his cock and her pussy were skin to skin. His breath caught in his throat, but he kept reading. She moved her hips against him, drenching the length of his hard cock with the moisture of her own desire, pressing against him, no pretense of innocence now. Brian didn't break off from the story, he was afraid if he stopped reading she would stop moving, the reality of the world would crash in, he'd suddenly realize he was about to fuck his own daughter and he would stop, and more than anything, he wanted this not to stop.

"Daddy? Don't stop reading."

It was a gasp now, almost a whimper, and he broke his pause with more words.

"The prince looked for the frog, hiding in the river bank." His hands were shaking. "The frog looked out from its hiding place, terrified of being found."

The entrance to her pussy, his little girl's cunt, was pressing against the head of his cock. He was desperate to be inside her now, but he wouldn't be the one to make it happen.

"Suddenly the prince spoke."

Brian's voice was barely a rasp, there was no rhythm to his words, but if he stopped reading now he would start moaning, would lose control, would drive his cock into his daughter, break that taboo forever. If he moaned, it would become real, it would really be happening, and he would never escape it. He kept reading.

"Don't stop reading daddy, don't stop....don't stop."

Her hair tumbled down over his shoulder as she threw her head back, writhing around trying to pull the end of his cock into her aching pussy.

Her tits were thrust in front of her, nipples erect, and he realized he had somehow pushed her nightgown higher, had her nipple squeezed in his left hand. The world was swimming. She moved her hips and finally just the tip of his cock popped into her.

"Don't stop, daddy."

She leaned away from him, seeking a better angle; he held onto the book and dragged out the sentences of the story as she rocked her hips, rubbing the end of his cock around the entrance of her pussy. He wouldn't moan, it would make it too real... He held his breath to keep the sound inside.

Neri was reflected in the mirror on the other side of the room, her legs apart, her tits bouncing gently as she writhed on his lap, her eyes closed tight. She pushed herself harder onto him and whimpered, a tiny sound.

"Uhh."

It was a whimper and a question, ending on a higher note, a plea and pure pleasure all in one. It was such a tiny sound, but when he heard it he lost his mind.

The book fell onto the floor, his fingers dug into her hips, and he stood, driving his cock deep into his daughter's cunt. He dragged her, impaled on his cock, to the writing desk just a few feet in front of them, and he watched his hands dig into his little girl's ass as he drove himself into her pussy. Like him, she made barely a sound, the music in the background, their breathing the only other sound apart from the thwack of his balls against her thighs. He fucked her, hard, watching the lips of her pussy suck against his purple, rigid cock on the out stroke, then drag against him as he pushed his cock back in. His fingers would leave bruises on her ass. Her breathing was shallow, urgent, she was whispering something.

"Daddy, please..."

He knew a moment of panic before she continued.

"...please don't stop."

He built the tempo now, and she rose on the desk, almost as though she wanted to get away from him, but then she grabbed onto the opposite edge of the desk and he realized she was bracing herself so she could fuck him harder, push her ass back against him.

His thighs slapped the back of her legs, and he glanced across the room at the mirror that faced them. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and she was beginning to whimper. Her breath was rasping, ragged, desperate as her orgasm built. Her tits swung in the mirror, just like on the night he had first seen her like this, except now it was his cock inside his little girl.

He would not moan.

Their breathing quickened and he fixed his gaze on the curve of her ass, the dip of the skin between her thighs as his cock appeared, and disappeared between her legs. She was moaning, a low, gutteral, animal sound. She increased the pace and he followed her lead, pulling on her ass, eyes fixed on the pucker of her anus as she pressed her head low against the desk and raised her ass in front of him. He remembered what her mother used to like...he thrust his thumb into his mouth, covering it with saliva, then pressed against his little girl's asshole. She groaned, loud, and pleaded with him to fill her, and his thumb popped inside her. He was moments away from cumming and so was she. He snaked his other hand to her clit, pulled some moisture from the lips of her pussy and brought it back to circle around the nub of her pleasure.

"Daddy! Fuck!" Her clit bounced, her cunt clenched, her ass tightened around his thumb, and he unloaded his cum into her, a long, loud, ragged moan tearing itself from his throat.

12
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